


A Study in adoption

by Like16pets



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Blind Character, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Like16pets/pseuds/Like16pets
Summary: Sherlock happens upon a young girl, an orphan, who surprisingly is not an idiot. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 17





	1. A meeting, of sorts

**Author's Note:**

> Pls don't judge me this is my first fic, and all it really is is a maladaptive daydream of mine that I'm transcribing into a complete work. I apologize in advance for any poor soul who stumbles across this fic. If you have suggestions please comment, and I apologise for my Grammer and punctuation, I know they are atrocious, I reread everything several times before posting but I still can't catch everything, sorry.

Kenna made her way down the sidewalk, doing her best to avoid bumping into people on the crowded street. As she walked she thought about the latest case of Sherlock Watson-Holmes and Dr. John Watson-Holmes. She'd just left the library after listening to their latest blog post. Admittedly, it wasn't one of the more exciting cases so there wasn't all that much to try and remember. It was a pastime of hers, trying to remember all the ways Sherlock could deduce people, and pull answers out of seemingly thin air. Feeling fanciful, she tried to deduce the people around her, of course this was made difficult because she had to focus mainly on the tapping of her cane, and making sure she made all the right turns. Even so she liked to imagine the lives of the people around her, even if her guesses were far from correct.  
As she came upon a crosswalk, and listened to the flow of traffic, someone grasped her arm, rather tightly.   
"Excuse me, but despite my blindness, I am perfectly capable of crossing the street on my own." Kenna tried to tug her arm free, to no avail.   
"Don't you worry dearie, I'm just making sure you get across safely" a distinctly feminine voice said pleasantly.  
"Yes ma'am, I know, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd let go of me. If you're that worried just tell me when it's safe to cross"  
"Now, I don't know why you're being so difficult about this, I just want to help you! " The strain in the ladies voice told Kenna there would be no arguing with this woman.  
Kenna did her best to ignore the lady and listen for the beep that would tell her it's safe to cross the street. She couldn't help but fidget anxiously though, she silently begged for the woman to just Let Go.  
Abruptly someone's hand came down on her shoulder and she flinched, hard. The hand was quickly withdrawn as a deep baritone voice from above and behind her began to speak.  
"Alright, I've been standing here a few minutes and it's plain as day that you are making this young lady uncomfortable" Addressing the woman then Kenna thought. "Even an idiot could see that she is more than capable of crossing a simple street, why don't you go back to your flat where I'm sure your boyfriend is waiting for you. Oh, and your cat--no dog is missing you by now, you've been working overtime. "  
The woman yanked her hand back and huffed, clearly displeased that a stranger had just laid her life out so plainly.  
Finally, the beep came and Kenna crossed the road avoiding pothole she knew was in her path and minding the curb of the sidewalk. Hoping to get back to the care home without further incident she quickened her pace, keeping her head down avoiding attention. Kenna had hardly made it more than a few feet when a realization stopped her dead in her tracks. That was Sherlock. The Sherlock Watson-Holmes had been within feet of her. Who else could have figured out those things, it had to have been him. She mentally kicked herself. She'd had the chance to talk to him and she blew it.  
"I'm sorry miss, but are you alright?" The baritone voice spoke up again, he must be walking in the same direction she realized!  
" Oh, yes I'm sorry, I hadn't even realized I'd stopped walking, sorry about that, um thank you, I mean-I appreciate you helping me back there, sorry, I don't mean to ramble, um it's nice to meet you. Mr Watson-Holmes I presume? " Kenna said, as she stuck out her free hand for him to shake, but apparently she'd misjudged where he was because she ended up jabbing him in the side. "Sorry, I'm sorry." Kenna ducked her head again, turning to leave, she'd already made a mess of this, better to just walk away and pretend it never happened.   
Sherlock spoke again, startling her, "How did you know who I was?"  
Kenna stopped again turning to face him, "Well, who else could have deduced that lady like that, I would have to be an idiot not to realize who you are. "  
" You'd be surprised, most people don't recognise me without the hat" He sounded bitter.  
" I mean, whether or not you're wearing a hat means nothing to me, if that makes you feel any better"   
Sherlock giggled. She had actually gotten the great Sherlock Watson-Holmes to laugh, it hadn't even been that funny!  
"You aren't as much if an idiot as most people, you know that? Do you mind if I walk with you for a bit? If you're okay with it, I'd like to ask a few questions about your life. " He paused for a moment before quickly adding " Not in a creepy way, sorry. I'd like to know how you navigate the world, so in case there's ever a case with a blind person involved I'd know more about how they'd react to certain things. "  
Kenna could hardly believe it, Sherlock wanted to talk to her, of all people. She nodded, smiling as she resumed walking. "Ask away."


	2. A barrage of questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short, it's easier for me to write in short blocks

"Alright then, what's your name? Were you born blind? Does your arm ever get tired from holding that cane? How do you cross streets that don't have crosswalks? Is it normal for people to grab you? How do you tell the shampoo and conditioner bottle apart? How do you get around without your ca-"  
"Hold up, you've gotta slow down." Kenna chuckled.  
"What is you-" Sherlock started over  
"No, you don't have to start over, my name is Kenna. No my arm doesn't get tired. I would have to listen for the traffic and hope they let me pass. Yes people grab me a lot, thinking they are helping. I just remember where I put the bottles-wait why would you need to know that for a case? Do people get killed in the shower pretty often or something? "  
"I'd just always wondered, I'm fully sighted and get the shampoo and conditioner bottles confused all the time." Sherlock said amusedly." And yes, people do die in the shower fairly often, surprisingly. "  
"Oof, that would be embarrassing. "  
"Well once you're dead you can't exactly be embarrassed anymore now can you? "  
"Oh , yeah. " Kenna cringed as she realized how dumb she must've sounded.  
"You still haven't answered two of my questions. Were you born blind or-"  
Kenna cut him off, "yeah, my uh-my parents must not have wanted,or been able to afford a blind daughter. I was found at a fire station with only a first name. I've been in and out of foster homes since then." Kenna grimaced, suppressing memories of the not-so-nice homes she'd been in.  
Sherlock fell silent for a few minutes, Kenna almost thought he'd left but then he spoke again, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, may I ask instead how you came to know about me? Surely it wasn't word of mouth."  
"A friend of mine used to read your husband's blog to me, before he aged out of the system. He's also the one who taught me how to get to and from the library. Now I have to ask one of the librarians to set up the computer for me so that the screen reader software is on. Before Liam, my friend, left he made me memorise the keyboard so I could type. " Kenna smiled, remembering how frustrated he used to get.  
By this point they'd reached the gate of the orphanage, Kenna turned to Sherlock "it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Watson-Holmes. Have a nice day"  
"Just Sherlock, please. And the pleasure is all mine." Kenna heard his footsteps fade away as she opened the gate and made her way down the gravel path to the door. What a day, she thought smiling to herself.


	3. The only time Sherlock has ever cleaned anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying my best to create an accurate representation of how I imagine Sherlock and John's relationship to be, but I'm nowhere near perfect so please allow me some leniency

Sherlock was hardly a block away from the orphanage when he got a text. He groaned, there was really only one person it could be.  
"Be careful Sherlock" -MH  
Damn him "Piss off Mycroft."-SWH  
" If that's what you want, brother   
dearest. "-MH  
Sherlock hailed a cab back to Baker Street, as he texted a few people who owed him favors. Once that was taken care of he slipped his phone into his coat pocket as he reviewed the data he'd collected from his conversation with Kenna.  
The girl apologized far more than he would expect, and for such inconsequential things too. And there was the matter of her flinching so hard along with her desperation to get that woman to let go of her. Sherlock was willing to bet she has been in (a) foster home(s) with abusive or manipulative guardians. The poor child is probably terrified to trust others, who knows why she seemed to trust him.   
Sherlock felt his phone buzz in his pocket, but when he checked it was only Lestrade, and he didn't feel like answering. By now he was back at 221b where he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

John hurriedly made his way back to 221b Baker Street. He'd just gotten off a shift at the hospital only to find a message from Lestrade saying Sherlock hadn't showed up at the yard like he promised and wasn't answering his phone. John could only hope Sherlock was just in his mind palace, or was too lazy to get his phone from the other side of the room.  
As he approached the flat he was surprised and mildly concerned to see a cleaning company's van parked on the street. With workers coming in and out of the door. John all but ran inside and up the stairs, only to find Sherlock with a sleeping mask over his face and using John's old cane to move around the flat.  
"Sherlock?" John called out hesitantly "are you alright?"  
"Oh, splendid, you're back, I hope you don't mind but I've converted your old room into a makeshift laboratory and had all your old furniture moved downstairs into 221c " Sherlock said jubilantly as he pulled the face mask off his head.  
" And why is that? What happened did something explode again? "  
" No no of course not, though Ms Hudson nearly had a heart attack when she saw me cleaning the flat."  
"Wait what? You Cleaned The Flat? I didn't even know you knew how to clean. What's with the cleaners then? " John couldn't help but be surprised. In his years of knowing Sherlock, not once has he cleaned anything.  
" They are cleaning the room downstairs, I'd have done it but it was awfully moldy down there and the owner of the business owed me a favor anyways." Sherlock seemed happy about something, his words ran together he was talking so fast.  
"But why Sherlock, and what's got you so excited?"  
" Oh she's absolutely brilliant John,you'll love her, oh don't look so jealous. I've already approved it with Ms Hudson."  
" And what is it that Ms Hudson has approved? Sherlock you need to slow down and tell me what's going on." John tried to be reasonable.   
" I was on my way to the yard when I met this young girl, she can't have been older than 13 or 14, she recognized me right off the bat,and I wasn't even wearing the hat. I ended up having a conversation with her and wouldn't you know it she isn't as much of an idiot as most people twice her age. She's from the orphanage." Sherlock finished his story, smiling expectingly at John.  
"And this has to do with cleaning how?" John once again wondered how Sherlock's could be so intelligent, but still struggle to get a point across efficiently.  
Sherlock suddenly looked sheepish, "oh, yeah I probably should have asked you first. Um- I was hoping we could foster her. I mean I know you've always wanted kids, so I didn't think you'd have a problem with it but I realize now I should have asked anywa-"   
John cut him off by pulling him into an abrupt kiss before he pulled back to ask, "Really Sherlock? You mean it? This isn't some sort of experiment? You actually want a daughter?"  
" Well yeah, but only if she wants us. I got the feeling she hasn't been in many, if any happy homes before. I figure we can foster her for a while, and eventually offer her the chance to legally be a Watson-Holmes." Sherlock smiled, clearly pleased John had been so enthusiastic.  
"Why did this involve making the upstairs a lab though, surely she knows better than to mess with potentially harmful chemicals and various body parts? And why put her in the downstairs, there's not even a window down there." John inquired, "And what's with the sleep mask and my cane?"  
" With the lab upstairs, no chemical fumes can rise into the rest of the flat, and since there's a window up there any gases or nasty smells have a place to go. And I highly doubt she'll mourn the lack of a window." Sherlock stepped over to the sofa where he lay with his fingers steepled beneath his chin, clearly about to enter his mind palace.   
" Fair point but you still haven't told me what you were doing with the mask and cane. I have to say, walking around effectively blind is strange, even for you..." John trailed off as realized he was speaking to what was effectively an empty room. Rather than ponder Sherlock's reasoning he decided to order takeout and have a shower, he'd been puked on twice today and really didn't feel like making dinner.  
He was, of course a bit worried about how this girl -he hadn't even gotten her name for Christ's sake- would fit into the chaotic world that he and Sherlock live in, he could only hope she wasn't squeamish. But he knew they'd make it work.


	4. Paper and revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sally Donovan was moved to a different division following Sherlock's "fall" she plays a big role in Kenna's life, but that will be elaborated on more in future chapter's. Sherlock and John don't necessarily trust her yet but in time they will.

"John, John wake up." John rolled over and cracked his eyes open to see Sherlock fully dressed standing by the side of their bed.  
"Sherloocckkk, lemme sleeeep" John groaned turning back over and closing his eyes.  
He'd hardly settled back down again when Sherlock ripped the covers off, introducing him the the cold morning air. "Oh come on John, it's already 9:30" Sherlock huffed.  
Still groggy it took John a moment to realize, "9:30? I'm late for work, crap, I'd better call Sarah. " John sighed wondering how he'd managed to sleep through his alarm.  
"Nope, I called her last night to tell her you weren't coming in today. I turned off your alarm too since the orphanage doesn't allow visitors till 11." Sherlock beamed.  
" Uh thanks? I think? You really do need to stop cancelling work for me Sherlock, one of these days the clinic is going to fire me for using so many 'sick days'. " John sat up rubbing his eyes. "you do know the application process will take a few days right? Nothing's going to get finalized today."  
"Of course I know that, but I've bribed Mycroft into making the process move quicker. With any luck Kenna will be moving in this evening." Sherlock was practically bouncing on his toes, John hadn't seen him this excited since the string of murders with insideout corpses.  
"So that's her name then? Kenna?" John made his way into the kitchen and turned the kettle on.  
" Yes John, do keep up." Sherlock smirked handing him a plate of toast. "Don't worry, I've already eaten."

Just over an hour and a half later they were in the headmistress's office, waiting for her to find the paperwork. If she found it at all odd that they came in asking for one specific person she didn't let it show, probably at Mycroft's stipulation.  
"Alright," she said, finally pulling out a rather thick manilla folder from the filing cabinet, "let's get started, shall we?"  
What felt like hours of paperwork and signatures went by when finally, "Well boys, that should be it! I'll have a copy of her medical records emailed to you as soon as possible. It really is nice of you to give her a chance, she's the oldest one here and if that wasn't enough there's her disability to contend with too. Most potential families won't even consider her. " The headmistress smiled sadly. " I'll call when down for you."  
She then picked up her phone and held down a button, "Kenna? If you could please make your way to my office, there's someone her to see you" her voice rang out over an intercom system.  
John looked at Sherlock quizzically mouthing the word "disability?" Sherlock quickly shut him down with a wave of his hand.  


Kenna carefully made her way down the stairs and hallways to Headmistress Lily's office. More than once she tripped on what she could only assume to be the discarded toys of the younger kids. She had her cane, but knew the path well enough that she didn't bother using it.  
Knocking softly on the door, she opened it and stepped inside, with a tentative "hello" hoping beyond belief that whoever it was would be a good person.  
She was greeted by the last person she would have ever expected, "it's nice to see you again Kenna" came the voice of the one and only Sherlock Watson-Holmes.  
Another quieter voice addressed Sherlock directly. "Sherlock?.." a pause "you didn't mention that she's blind"   
Kenna's heart sank, that could only be Sherlock's husband, John. "I'm sorry, I'll just-i'll just leave, okay? I'm obviously not what you were expecting" Kenna started to turn, opening the door again when John spoke up again.  
"No, no please stay. I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me. You simply surprised me that's all. Sherlock has a tendency to leave out key details, you aren't who I was expecting, but that's alright!" His voice was increasingly reassuring. "Please, stay. My name is-"  
" Dr Watson-Holmes, I know." Kenna closed the door again but didn't move. "I'll understand if you aren't interested in me anymore, don't pretend to care out of pity"  
"Don't be ridiculous Kenna, we came here for you. We'd like for you to live with us, but only if you want to. You being blind makes no difference to us." Sherlock said pointedly.   
" But-" Kenna hardly got a word out before she was interrupted, this time By Dr Watson-Holmes.  
"No buts, I'm sorry. I set us off on the wrong foot. I'd be honestly really happy if you'd take us up on our offer."  
Kenna took a few steps forward," you mean it?"  
"Yes!" Sherlock exclaimed  
"Of course, Sherlock already has a room set up for you and everything. "   
" Um , yeah, okay, yes. I-i would like to come live with you." Kenna couldn't believe it. She was struggling just to speak. This was beyond her wildest dreams.  
The Headmistress spoke up for the first time since Kenna had arrived, "if that's settled then, Kenna, if you could come over here and sign some of these papers, you'll be all set."  
Kenna worked her way around to the desk where Headmistress Lily guided her hand to the line. Kenna then painstakingly signed her name, using her finger as a guide.

Sally Donovan was walking up the stairs to enter the orphanage for her weekly visit, when the doors opened up. She was beyond astonished to see Sherlock and John step out, followed by Kenna. Sally assumed it was coincidence, surely Sherlock was only there because of a new case.  
She called out to Kenna, "Hey, Kenna! How've you been?" Kenna turned her way, smiling, as she started walking more towards her.  
Sally set her bag down embracing Kenna, who began taking very quickly, but quietly.  
"They're going to foster me, Miss Sally. They asked Me if I wanted to stay with them. They let me choose if I wanted to, they didn't decide for me. I said yes!" Kenna seemed really truly happy. Tears shone in her cloudy eyes.  
"Really? That's great Kenna! I think you'll really like them, but if you don't, or you ever don't feel safe, you tell me alright?" Sally was happy for her,she knew Kenna would fit right in with Sherlock and John.  
By this point Sherlock and John, who was carrying Kenna's few possessions in a cardboard box, had approached, looking skeptical.  
"Donovan?" John started, "what are you doing here?" She could hear the edge in his voice, she hadn't seen them since she was moved to another division following Sherlock's stunt.   
"I'm here to visit the kids, I've been coming for a few years now" she said, moving somewhat in front of Kenna protectively.  
"Seriously? I never pegged you as a kid lover." Sherlock sneered. She really couldn't blame him after how she treated him in the past.  
"Yes, seriously. I started out investigating some problems with the old headmaster," she sensed more than felt Kenna stiffen, "I've been coming near weekly ever since to visit the kids. A lot of the younger ones have decided they want to be cops when they grow up." Sally smiled pleasantly  
" That's, good for you Sally." John said, a bit of the edge had faded away.  
"Do not disappoint her," Sally didn't bother to keep the venom out of her voice," Kenna has not had an easy life, do not make it any harder. Sally shot glares at Sherlock and John, who glanced at each other then to Kenna (who was, for her part, pretending not to hear anything) and then back to Sally. They nodded, and then Sherlock took off calling for Kenna and John to follow.  
Sally watched them all the way off the grounds, watched Sherlock hail a cab, letting Kenna and John take the back seat while he sat in the front with the driver.   
She hoped Kenna would find her place with them. Kenna really deserved a good rest of her life. Finally, she turned back to the building, collecting her bag and walking through the doors where a gaggle of small children sat waiting for her.


	5. An unwelcome visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've done my best to accurately describe a panic attack, but considering the fact that I've literally just tried to write down how I have panic attacks, it probably won't make any sense at all. I tried to have Kenna do less thinking during that part because I usually can only grasp onto a few thoughts before during and after a panic attack, so I doubt I've portrayed it in a way that makes sense to anyone but me. Please don't hate me if you don't like the way I wrote it, hopefully I'll get better with time.

**this part of the story will include Kenna having a panic attack, I am including a basic summary of this chapter's events at the bottom of this chapter, so you won't miss anything if you want/need to skip this part.**

Kenna sat in the back of the cab, listening to Sherlock and John talk about their latest case. She was grateful that they managed to both include her in the conversation, but also not necessarily expect her to join in. An eternity later the cab pulled up alongside what she assumed was 221b Baker Street. She stepped out hesitantly so as to not trip over the curb, then followed them into the flat.  
Almost immediately upon crossing the threshold, she was enveloped in a hug. Kenna froze as the hugger began to speak.  
"Ah! You must be Kenna. I do hope you'll like it here, and if you ever need anything you just let me know okay? But I'm not a housekeeper." she emphasized.  
Kenna struggled in vain to escape from this woman's grasp. Sherlock mumbled something and then she was suddenly let go. Kenna stumbled a bit, but quickly regained her footing.  
"Oh, sorry me, I haven't even introduced myself. "I am Ms. Hudson, the landlord, it's a pleasure to meet you."  
Kenna offered her hand for Ms Hudson to shake, doing her best to smile pleasantly. She took a few deep breaths trying to quiet the anxiety she could feel bubbling in her chest.   
Sherlock slipped around her and Ms Hudson as he said, "your room is just down this hallway, Kenna."  
She followed him, the tapping of her cane echoing slightly in the cramped space. She heard him open a door on her left and go down a few stairs. Kenna turned stepping carefully down, counting the steps as she went. 1,2,3,4,5. Five steps, she told herself, the words echoing around in her head, giving her something to focus on.  
John came down the stairs next, and she heard him drop her box of possessions on the floor.  
"Your bed is in the left corner by the door, there's a dresser on the other side of the door, and a closet in the left wall. Oh, and a fireplace on the far wall." Sherlock said. "I figure we can go shopping tomorrow, and get you some furniture if you want it and some new clothes." Sherlock rattled off.  
Kenna felt her way over to the bed, and sat down. She couldn't keep her leg from bouncing. There was alot going on, she knew it was illogical to be this anxious for no real reason, but that didn't make the anxiety go away. Luckily, either Sherlock and John didn't notice it, or they at least knew better than to call her out for it.   
"C'mon, let's go show you the rest of the flat, " John called climbing the stairs. Kenna and Sherlock followed him, Ms Hudson had seemingly disappeared. Turning back to the main entry John said, "there's 13 stairs,then a landing, and then another 11 stairs to the door."  
Kenna managed a small "thank you" as she made her way up those steps, one hand on the railing, the other holding her cane up above the steps so as not to drag it along. About the time when she reached the landing, she heard John sigh dramatically.  
"Sherlock, your Brother is here." John groaned.  
"Goddammit Mycroft!" Sherlock practically roared from behind her.  
Kenna flinched, moving in against the railing as Sherlock came up around her. Once he passed she continued up into the flat, a mantra in her head incessantly repeating, "everthingsokay-you'reokay"  
"The couch is right in front of you Kenna, we'll show you around properly once Mycroft leaves," John said pointedly, "in the meantime I'm going to make some tea,would you like some?"   
Kenna nodded, not trusting herself to speak coherently. She managed to find the couch and sat down on the far corner of it, her foot resuming it's shaking. The flat was eerily silent, apart from John bustling around in the kitchen. Kenna could only wonder what Sherlock and Mycroft were up to.  
John finally emerged with the tea, as he said, "You two Seriously need to stop doing that."  
"Doing what?" Mycroft said flatly.  
"That thing where you have entire conversations without speaking, it's creepy."  
Kenna reached out to take her mug from John, hoping he wouldn't see her hands shake.   
He sat down next to her, just as the two brothers started arguing, out loud this time.  
Kenna did her best to shrink into the arm of the couch, repeating over and over in her head, "everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-yo--" she was suddenly pulled out of her thoughts as she realized John was speaking to her  
"Hey," John said gently, "are you alright?"  
" Yeah-yeah 'm okay, there's just, it's alot-theres alot going on." Kenna struggled to form a coherent sentence, her brain on overload. She registered that John was trying to get her mug from her and abruptly let go, as she quickly shoved her hands under her legs to hide their shaking. She was holding back tears at this point.  
"Why don't we go back down to your room, okay? Would that be better? "  
Kenna tried to speak but all that really came out was a sort of hum/whine as she turned to where Sherlock and Mycroft were mid argument.  
"I'll tell them that we are gonna go unpack your stuff, okay?" John said, apparently reading her mind.  
Kenna did her best to walk calmly out of the room, she heard John talking behind her. As soon as she was out of everyone's line of site she began knocking on her collarbone with her free hand, a nervous tic. She barely made it down and into her room when the tears started flowing. She dropped her cane and all but collapsed on the bed. She curled up into a ball, still knocking her collarbone as she whispered her mantra to herself "everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthingsokay-you'reokay everthings"--john came down the steps, and Kenna scrambled to get to the corner of the bed up against the wall as a dozen apologies forced their way out of her lips.  
"No-hey you're okay, you don't have to apologise" she heard him say, " I'm not gonna hurt you, no one is, I promise."   
Kenna just shrank further into the corner, grinding her head against the wall.   
"Hey now, you're going to hurt yourself," John gently grabbed hold of her wrists pulling them away from where she had been knocking. Kenna felt the bed dip as he sat down, trying to shift her away from the wall.   
Kenna struggled,trying to escape his grasp, but he didn't let go.  
"I said no one was going to hurt you, remember? That includes yourself okay?"   
Kenna stopped trying so hard to pull away.  
"I'm gonna let go of you, so no more hurting yourself."   
Kenna felt herself nod.  
"Good, can you try and take some deep breaths for me now?"   
Kenna took a deep shuddering breath, then another, and another. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours later, she wasn't really sure, but she eventually was able to calm down enough to wipe her tears away and sit up straight.  
"There you are, you're alright" John said standing up, "do you wanna go back upstairs? It's okay if you don't. I'll tell them that it's been a long day and you've gone to bed."  
Kenna sniffled,"can I just stay?" She didn't think she could go back up and pretend she was alright just yet.  
"Yup. I'll go get you some water and another blanket, it's a bit chilly down here. I'll knock before I come back in okay?"  
Kenna nodded, swinging her feet over the side of the bed. She heard him trot up the stairs, and the door swung shut. Kenna stood up and felt around for her cane, once she had it in her hands she went back and sat on the bed again. Compulsively tensing and relaxing her hands around the handle she forced herself to keep taking deep breath. A few moments later, John knocked on the then waited for her to call out "come in" before he even opened the door.  
"Alright here's your blanket, and I'm setting a glass of water on the dresser. If you need anything just let us know, okay? Oh, and Mycroft should be leaving soon so you needn't worry about him. "   
John went back up the stairs, but before he could leave Kenna called out a soft, "thank you." She hoped he knew that it was for more than just the blanket and water.  
"You're welcome, Kenna. Goodnight." John said warmly before he closed the door.   
Kenna quickly found her box of stuff and put her clothes in the dresser, and changed into her PJs. She then dug around in the box for, Floppy, her stuffed elephant, one of her few possessions. She'd gotten it one Christmas as part of a charity thing, where people donated gifts to the orphanage. She hugged it close, stroking it's soft fur as she crawled into bed. She lay awake for a while, still fairly anxious, but doing better. Eventually she fell asleep, still clutching Floppy. 

**Summary**  
John Sherlock and Kenna arrive at 221b Baker Street, they are greeted by Ms Hudson, Kenna is shown her room, then everyone (except Ms Hudson) goes up to the flat only to find The One and Only Mycroft Holmes™.  
Sherlock and Mycroft have an argument. Kenna's anxiety has been increasing throughout all of this, cue panic attack. John gets her back downstairs and helps her out. Once she's okay he leaves, and she lays in bed for a while then falls asleep. And that's about it. Oh, and Kenna has a stuffed elephant that's named Floppy.


	6. The unveiling of truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short, I hadn't expected anyone to find this fic, but I wanted to get something out there as a form of thanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenna's medical history reveals some unsettling details.

Sherlock finished ushering his brother out of the flat, sighing deeply. That had not been how he'd wanted the evening to go. He trudged back up the stairs, pondering the things Mycroft had said.  
He knew it was a risk, bringing Kenna into his and John's life, but it Was worth it he decided. He loved kids, and he knew John did too. Kenna reads John's blog, she knows how dangerous The Work can get, but she chose to join them anyhow. But if anything were to happen to her, he of course wouldn't forgive himself. He'd just have to make sure that never happened then, he decided.  
Sherlock flopped onto the couch, watching through lidded eyes as John grabbed his laptop. John came over to sit on the couch, lifting Sherlock's sprawling legs and then resettling them on his lap. Sherlock started to zone out, it had been a long day. He was suddenly pulled back to the present when he felt John stiffen. He cracked his eyes open, then quickly sat up as he saw the look on John's face.  
"What's wrong? Sherlock asked,"John? Is everything alright? "  
John swiped a hand over his face, as he turned, "Sherlock..." He paused, seemingly unsure of what to say, "Kenna, has Not had a happy life." John turned the laptop to face Sherlock. " These are her medical records."  
Sherlock snatched the computer from John,skimming through the pages of the document.  
"Near complete blindness from birth... Can differentiate between light and dark" Sherlock quickly added that bit to his mind palace room for Kenna, he skipped a bit further down his eyes catching on the words, "admitted to hospital with numerous contusions on face and arms. Thought to have been received from her current legal guardian. Hospital staff has filed a complaint and asked for her to be immediately removed from his care. "  
Further down, another hospital admission, "patient was brought to hospital by a neighbor, suffering from a broken collarbone and black eye. Neighbor says that her guardian is a drug addict, and that they were only able to get the patient here because the guardian was at a drug house. We immediately called the orphanage to remove her from the home."   
Yet another one said, "Patient was brought in by police following an investigation of the headmaster of the orphanage. Patient suffers from multiple cigarette burns and lacerations. Patient says lacerations are from broken beer bottles. We are keeping her here, along with several other children until a new headmaster can be found. "  
Sherlock looked back up to John, who was practically boiling over with anger. The laptop slid from his hands and clattered to the floor. Sherlock dug the palms of his hands into his eyes as John spoke up.  
"She wouldn't have wanted us to know those things." Sherlock could hear the barely suppressed rage in John's voice.  
"We'll.. pretend we don't know then. If she wants to tell us she will." Sherlock sighed turning to take John's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Though that does explain some of why Mycroft was here. I'm sure he'd have had access to any and all records of her. I'd thought he was concerned solely about our safety, but maybe he was thinking of her too. Crime scenes may not be a great place for her, all things considered."  
"She's strong though, that much is obvious. We'll protect her, but subtly. If she's been fighting her whole life she may not want to rely on others quite yet." John said, standing up. "It's been a long day. I'm going to head to bed." John collected his laptop from the floor,placing it back on his desk, before walking down the hallway to their room.  
Sherlock yawned,standing up to follow him. He didnt feel like staying awake with only his thoughts for company, not tonight at least. "We will give her a life worth living" he said aloud, John turned back and smiled.  
" Yes, we will. "


	7. Learning to speak to the dead

Kenna sat in the cab beside Sherlock, who was impatiently fidgeting in his seat. They'd been caught in traffic unexpectedly on the way to a crime scene. (Three dead in one abandoned building, no traces left by the killers. Or so Lestrade had told them)   
"I'm sure Mycroft is behind this. Leave it to him to mess with traffic just to annoy me. "Sherlock huffed.  
Kenna smiled, "oh come on, he's your brother, if he really wanted to annoy you he'd stop all crime in London for a week." Kenna hadn't been with Sherlock and John for more than a few days, and yet somehow, she felt as if this was where she was meant to be. She knew Sherlock would scoff at such a thought, so she kept it to herself, but she couldn't help but feel it to be true.  
Sherlock shifted beside her, "It'd be faster just to walk there." He said, Kenna heard his seatbelt unbuckle.  
" Sherlock, be reasonable," John spoke for the first time in several minutes. He'd just gotten off a long shift at Bart's only to be drug along to this next case. "You can walk if you want but I'm riding in the cab. "  
Sherlock groaned rebuckling his seatbelt.  
Kenna pulled her phone out of her pocket. A gift from Sherlock and John. The thing was apparently a top of the line model, designed specifically for blind people. Kenna didn't even want to think about how much it must have cost. She ran her thumb over the keys, familiarizing herself with their placement. Each was clearly labeled in braille, but she'd been struggling to use it, having to search out each letter of each word of each sentence. She knew she'd eventually get it down to muscle memory, but for now she couldn't go but be frustrated. She put the phone back in her pocket, then remembering what she got it out for in the first place, used it to check the time. It has only been a few minutes since they'd hit the traffic. Apparently that was too long for Sherlock though she thought with a smile.  
The cab started to move again thankfully, she wouldn't put it past Sherlock to make the three of them walk all the way to the scene, even if it was on the opposite side of town.  
A short time later they'd arrived.  
Sherlock fairly flew out of the cab in his impatience. John waited up for her and she took his arm. She was surprised at how quickly she had come to trust them. She still had her cane with her of course (a new one at that, apparently the old one was too beat up for Sherlock's liking) and she used it mainly, but it was nice knowing that someone was there to help too.  
Keeping a half-step behind John to anticipate obstacles, they made their way into the building. She heard rapid footsteps and could only guess that Sherlock was pacing the room, taking in all the clues and churning out answers.   
"And who's this Sherlock?" A voice demanded, probably Lestrade she thought.  
John pulled his arm away gently but she quickly grabbed his sleeve."I don't know where anything is, I don't want to disturb any evidence, can I stay with you? Please?"  
"By the time Lestrade calls Sherlock in disturbing the evidence is practically fair game. But yeah, you can stay with me." John answered tiredly, Kenna could practically feel the exhaustion coming off him in waves. She reclaimed her place at his side and followed him over to where she thought Lestrade was.  
She released his arm once they stopped moving. He was whispering to Lestrade about something but she couldn't quite make it out. She assumed it was about her, and a little voice in her head told her it was all bad, but she did her best to dismiss it. She trusted John.

Lestrade listened to John as he quietly explained who this girl was and why she was here. He looked around John to the frail girl clasping a long white cane. He shot John a questioning glance, John only nodded.   
"Christ," he couldn't believe it, "Sherlock!" He yelled. Before he could finish his sentence John knocked him upside the head. He turned to John about to question him when he saw the girl. Kenna apparently. Her fingers had gone white she was holding the cane so tightly. The child was hesitantly trying to shuffle away as well.  
Lestrade looked to John who was glaring at him. He then glanced to Sherlock who had stopped walking round the bodies and was now looking at him reproachfully. Lestrade quickly strode over to the taller man, who merely shook his head.  
"Don't yell, not when she's around," Sherlock muttered, "she won't hold it against you, you didn't know, but don't do it again." Sherlock turned back to face the corpses.  
Lestrade nodded, not that Sherlock could see him with his back turned, but still. He turned walking back towards Kenna and John. Once he was fairly close he cleared his throat, making sure she knew he was there. He was startled when she appeared to look directly at him, and stuck out her hand.  
"Detective Inspector Lestrade I presume?"  
Lestrade quickly gathered his senses and shook her hand. "You presume correctly, it's a pleasure to meet you... " He trailed off, allowing her to introduce herself, he figured it would make her feel more in control of the situation. He caught an approving glance from John out of the corner of his eye.  
"Kenna" the girl responded, quickly withdrawing her hand. She smiled faintly, and he took it as forgiveness.   
Lestrade stepped away,back towards John as he watched Sherlock scrutinize the scene.

Kenna shifted, uncomfortably, she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing. Standing around awkwardly surely wasn't helping the investigation along. She was about to turn and walk to John when Sherlock called her name.  
"Kenna, could you come here?"  
"Umm" Kenna hesitated  
"Don't worry there's about 20 feet of nothing between you and me." Sherlock must have read her mind.  
"That means absolutely nothing to me but okay." Kenna set off towards Sherlock.   
" Alright, that's close enough. Now, what do you think? "  
"What am I supposed to think. Apparently there's three dead people in front of me." Kenna wasn't sure what purpose Sherlock had in asking the blind girl what she bought of a crime scene.   
"Well, if you were a murderer, why would you dump three bodies in an abandoned warehouse?" Sherlock queried.  
"Because I would have wanted to make it harder to find me, I guess? You said dumped, were they not killed here then?"Kenna still didn't see the point to all this.  
"Nope, there's not enough blood for all of them to have died here. The killer deliberately brought them here after they were already dead." Sherlock didn't seem to care that she couldn't see, maybe he was just bouncing ideas around?  
"Is there enough blood for just one of them to have been killed here?"  
"Oh, that's brilliant!" Sherlock said jubilantly, "theres just enough blood here for one person to have died. The murderer brought two here,but they were caught by the third person. They had to kill the witness too! Lestrade,are you hearing this?"  
"Yes Sherlock I hear you." Lestrade said, " how does this tell us who the murderer is though?"  
" Oh I figured that out ages ago."  
" Well why didn't you tell me?" Lestrade complained.  
Kenna turned and walked back to John, it didn't seem like Sherlock needed her anymore.

About an hour later, back at the flat, John had crashed on the couch so Kenna curled up in his chair with her dinner. Sherlock was rummaging around the flat, looking for who knows what. She smiled, to no one in particular. It had been a good day, she was happy to have helped solve the case.   
Sherlock eventually started to play his violin. She didn't know the song but whatever it was sounded complicated. As she listened to him play she found herself growing sleepier and sleepier. Eventually she fell asleep, still in John's chair.

Sherlock stopped playing as he realized everyone was asleep. He smiled softly, Kenna must feel pretty safe here now, to let herself fall asleep in the middle of the flat. He walked over quietly, and gently picked her up. The poor thing hardly weighed anything. Sherlock crept down the stairs, careful not to wake her. Finally he reached her room and tucked her into bed. He kissed her softly on the forehead, before heading back upstairs.   
  
  



End file.
